Love's Illusions
by UchihanoChidori
Summary: Sequel to 'Not Enough'. After seven years, Sasuke and Naruto meet again, and realize some things never change.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I do not make any money from the writting of this story.**

**A/N: **After 'Not Enough', I just felt like writing a sequel. And I'm not sure if it's the last one. We'll see. I guess I kind of like this little depressing little piece of work. I guess it can be read as an independent story.

The idea and the title were inspired by Joni Mitchell's song 'Both Sides Now' – it's probably one of the most beautiful and saddest love songs I've ever listened to. Do give it a try.

Do let me know what you guys think!

**Love's Illusions**

It seems impossible that, after all this time, I would find you in the stupidest place ever.

If I am to be honest with myself, I had somehow hoped that you had moved to another town – or another country altogether – because, really, fate can't be that cruel so many times in a row, right? We've done exactly what it wanted, so why not leave us the hell alone?

Why not leave _me_ the hell alone?

How long has it been, seven years? Yes, seven years and a few months since the day you left and forced me to leave as well because you believed we both needed it. It was the right thing to do, you said.

I understood that. How could I not, when I lived with the nightmare we were every single day of my life?

Still, I regret the fact that you completely disregarded how much I depended on your very presence to be sane, remotely healthy and alive.

Wrong or right, good or bad, you were always the only thing that mattered in my life. Without you, everything I ever had was promptly taken away from me.

But I hold no grudges. After all, I did move on, just as you wanted, and I'm doing fine.

Seven years is a long, long time. For most people, it's more than enough to forgive, forget and never look back on the past again.

For others, like me, those things are nothing more than illusions we like to believe in, something that convinces us that we have, indeed, climbed some sort of high barrier that we couldn't climb before.

However, when I innocently made the decision of going to the supermarket to do the shopping for the month instead of sending my maid, I would've never expected you to be here as well – innocently shopping as well, I presume.

I want to believe that things like these are nothing more than unfortunate coincidences.

I also want to believe that the sick feeling in my stomach after seeing you pick up vegetables – carrots, I think – is also very much coincidence. It's been a while since I've last seen you, and even though you are a bit older, I recognize you immediately because you still look the same: the same bright, lively blue eyes and the same golden untamable hair. A few wrinkles are starting to show on your forehead and you look more serious, more mature, but that's all that distinguishes the' you' from the past from the 'you' now.

For a moment, I just stand here, hands gripping strongly the bar of my shopping cart, eyes glued to your figure as something very similar to panic strikes me.

My heart drums erratically inside my chest, and it hurts so much I can't breathe.

It shouldn't hurt at all.

The overflow of emotions inside of me is shocking and I don't know what to do.

It's been so long, Naruto…

I don't know what to do.

You haven't notice me yet, which is terrible because now I am left with a choice: to go to you and say hello, just out of politeness to let you know everything is alright, or to turn around and pretend I didn't see you.

In a way, I'm scared to talk to you. I don't feel as confident as I should. You seem well, but somehow I still want to know what you've been up to, what you are doing with your life and other, pointless things like those.

Yet, it's just because I have the need to talk to you that I decide against it and turn around as quickly as I can to hide before you notice me. Well, Uchihas don't hide, neither do they run like cowards, but I do walk at a fast pace to somewhere as far from you as I can and seriously consider leaving without doing the shopping.

But if I do that, I'll be admitting defeat. It will be the same as saying I haven't forgotten about you and I can't move on and be in in the same place as you like any normal, civilized person.

It's just a coincidence. Besides, it's Saturday, for Christ's sake, this place is huge and packed with people and I will probably not come face to face with you again.

There is absolutely no need to freak out.

So I'll stay and finish my shopping, but I'll keep far away from your zone because I kind of have a few things I might need here in the…lady's personal hygiene section.

Whatever. I can just buy a box of tampons and give them to Karin when I meet with her or something. And this special gynecologic soap looks pretty expensive, too; I'm sure she can't afford some of these things.

She might get the wrong idea, though. I don't give a shit right now, anyway.

So maybe I can buy some toothpaste and other similar necessities here. It all looks very interesting, I only hope I can find the brands I…

"Sasuke?"

Oh, Shit.

I keep looking at all the toothbrushes and toothpastes in front of me, pretending I didn't hear you. How I wish I had brought my iPod with me, it would be so much easier to ignore that voice and the surprisingly loud sound of approaching steps.

I reach out a hand to grab hold of some sort of mouth disinfectant but realize it's trembling slightly, so I retreat it before turning my face to the opposite direction you're coming from.

"Holy mother of…It is you!"

Since you are now right by my side, I can't really pretend to be deaf anymore, can I?

I take a deep, slow breath to compose myself and turn my now indifferent face towards you.

The big, idiotic grin you offer me makes my heart fall to my feet.

"Oh…" I say, dispassionately, looking at you from up and down. "It's you."

Your eyes are the bluest of blues and they sparkle like so many sapphires underneath the bright lights over us. For some reason, a familiar form of heat runs up my cheeks, and I swallow hard but let nothing show on my face.

Is it bad that I still think you're attractive?

"I had spotted you a while ago, but wasn't sure if you had seen me as well," You say, good-humoredly. "You weren't running away from me, were you?"

"Now, why would I do that?" I ask, shrugging as if the thought is stupid.

"I don't know, you tell me."

I glare at you but your smile only becomes larger.

"I didn't expect to see you here." I reply casually, moving my cart closer to the shelves so people can walk freely down the aisle.

You readjust your metallic basket on your elbow.

"I know, right? How odd is that?" It's your turn to look at me from head to toe. I think I see some sort of emotion flicker in your eyes but it's soon gone as you lock eyes with mine again and I can't identify it at all. "You look nice."

"I always look nice," I say, running a hand through my hair, internally happy that you acknowledge it. Hopefully, you still find me attractive, too, so you can remember exactly what you threw away. Well, you didn't, not really, but I have to blame someone. Do you regret not being with me? "But thank you. You don't look bad yourself."

"One tries to do what one can," You nod politely and your smile wavers a bit. The way you look at me, so firmly, makes me nervous, but I won't show it, no matter what. "But seriously, so many years later and you don't look a day older from the last time I've seen you. I guess it's one of the good things of having Japanese blood, right?"

"You're half Japanese as well," I point out, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, but I'm not as lucky as you. I'll be fifty looking like sixty in no time while you'll look like a forty year old man by then."

I allow a small smile to grace my lips out of courtesy. I don't feel like smiling at all, especially because I'm rather happy to see you, and happy that you had the guts to come and talk to me.

But I shouldn't be happy at all. I shouldn't, and yet I am. Even if it's just for a while, I'm glad I got to see you again – even if it makes me feel disgusted with myself.

A few moments of silence follow your comment, and all the while we stare at each other and I pretend not to notice how your smile disappears, slowly until there is just this twinge of uncertainty between us. You look a little hesitant, guilty like there is something you're thinking about that makes you feel that way.

I find myself wishing we could stay here forever. There are so many things I want to tell you, so many things I want to ask you and yet, I know it's not right – that I have no right. We no longer belong in the same world and knowing more will only worsen this deep hole in my heart.

So I sigh and grace you with a soft, simple smile.

"Well, Naruto, it was nice seeing you, but I do have things I need to do." I say, as politely as I can, causing you to blink a few times as if seeing me for the first time.

"Huh, yeah…" You stutter a bit before clearing your throat, scratching the back of your head with a weak laugh. "It was nice seeing you too, Sasuke. I'll see you around, I guess."

"Yes. Take care."

"You, too."

I refrain from offering my hand because it's unfitting, so I just nod and push my cart away, calmly, so as to not seem nervous. I want to walk away with as much dignity as I can and I do just that.

I can only take so many steps because, not even five seconds later, you call out to me.

"Would you like to go out for a drink or something?" You ask, voice still unsure but a little anxious all the same. "It doesn't have to be now or even today just…it would be nice to catch up."

I don't like these kinds of things. I don't know what to do about it, about the fact that I want to just say yes even though my rational side tells me that it's a bad, bad idea.

If I say yes, I'm giving in, but if I say no, I'm openly admitting my weakness.

I can't just tell you 'I'd love to, but it's a bad idea, Naruto'.

What is it that you want from me? To be friends? To make sure I'm really as fine as I look? To ease your own mind?

You were always hypocritical like that without even noticing.

But I can't ask you these questions because I don't want to know the answers. I don't even want to question myself right now because that will only make things worse.

So I turn around with ease, one eyebrow quirked upwards.

"I'm free later tonight, if you want."

I might as well not think about it too much, and the relieved look on your face is definitely worth it. It takes a while for me to assimilate the fact that I had missed that goofy, honest way you smile.

I can't hurt any more than I did, all those years ago, so…

Whatever.

000

The bar you take me to surprises me. You were always the kind of person who liked rowdy, noisy places filled with music and talkative people – as opposed to me – so when we get to the small, quiet place, I instantly know you brought us here out of consideration for me.

We met at this restaurant close to where I live – but I carefully kept that little detail to myself, not really wanting to know if you live nearby or not – before getting inside your car and heading straight here. It is a nice car, too, and I'm surprised how you managed to afford it on your own.

I have a new car nowadays, as well, but I still keep the one we owned safely in my garage. I don't ride it anymore, of course, I just can't seem to get rid of it because, really, we had been crazy enough to purchase that damned expensive thing back then when we were still in college and barely had enough money to support ourselves.

My father had discovered of our little affair and had promptly refused to pay for my studies until I decided that dating a guy was a stupid idea, so whatever money I had of my own was earned at that stupid coffee shop I worked at and, sometimes, given to me by Itachi.

We had kept our relationship a secret for three years, I think, before telling everybody about it. Friends from both parts were shocked and didn't agree; my parents were heartbroken and everybody just said that we were crazy and doing it all wrong and that, really, we were always fighting, how did that shit even managed to happen? We were going to regret it, Sakura had said, but I didn't listen to her at the time because she had a crush on me and liked to believe you had a crush on her.

You and I had moved in together to that tiny, dirty apartment because love seemed more important than anything else back then, and all we wanted was to be together and prove people wrong.

We were so brave, so trusting. We needed nothing but each other, but we were far too young. We messed up so many times and our lives could've been so much easier if we hadn't pretended we could do everything by ourselves.

Those were stupid, difficult times for us, and even though things got better once we graduated and started making big money, I still wish we could've been smarter.

The bar is a beautiful yet small place, almost burlesque in all its bright red and black glory. There is a large, crystal-like and very complex chandelier dangling from the center of the white ceiling above us. The dark wooden bar is located over the right side of who is just arriving, adorned by tall leathered stools. All around the place small, low tables of many colors in their most discreet degrees are each adorned by one single round white candle – they're lit, so that's probably where that vanilla scent comes from – and surrounded by three fluffy armchairs – two red ones, and one black. Only two tables are occupied, one by two business man chatting professionally, another one by a group of female women who are a little too loud.

The yellow lights are dimmed to the point where it's relaxing and I'm not sure if I want to be relaxed around you.

Even though said armchairs are very inviting, I suggest we sit at the bar instead because I don't want to be too comfortable if we're going to drink.

In the background, some old hits from the sixties, I presume, can be heard, and I don't recognize any of the songs at all.

The handsome bartender had brown hair and green eyes and is dressed in a plain, perfect white shirt and black trousers. He smiles at us once we sit on the high stools, side by side, and ask what we want to drink. I order a dry Martini and you order a glass of cheap Champaign – not because you can't afford something better, but because you don't like the presumption that comes from the more expensive ones.

I remove my black coat and you remove your brown jacket. I put both of them on the empty stool to my left. We both leave our wallets – and in my case, my pack of cigarettes as well – on the counter between us.

The bartender sets the drink in front of us and offers me a small, personal grin, promptly pretending that you don't exist. I smile slightly and thank him with a small nod – the guy is probably in his twenties, I notice – before turning my attention to you, who seem oblivious to the little exchange.

Whether the guy likes older men or doesn't realize I'm older than I look I don't know, but am not interested.

Especially not today; not right now.

You sip your drink once, and then the horror begins.

You're either very stressed or in a very good-mood because you talk non-stop. About your friends and what they're up to; about the places you've been to and people you've met. About people you haven't seen in ages and about work.

You ask me simple questions that you don't even let me answer, because you just keep babbling on and on before I can do so much as nod and make noises with my throat.

I reach out for my cigarettes and lit one for me before offering you one. You stop talking for a moment to decline, stating that you quit a long time ago, so I shrug and don't press the subject, allowing you to proceed.

I notice how, somehow, despite the fact that you are turned to me and looking at me, you're looking at everything but my eyes, which is weird, considering you were staring at me so firmly this afternoon. You look at my nose, my chin, my mouth, my hands, my neck, but not my eyes.

After a while you steal a cigarette from my pack without even asking for permission and light it like it's not a big deal. My eyebrows rise at that, but I prefer to not ask any questions.

Weird guy, I muse, carefully stopping myself from smiling.

I do stare at the blue of your eyes and listen to every word you say even though I don't particularly care for the constant outburst of unwanted news that comes out of your mouth.

A few years ago, I would've been able to tune you out most effectively, but it seems that my brain is happy just listening to your voice.

It takes two more glasses of Champaign for you tell me about your personal life – like how you got married five years ago to this woman who is slightly older than you and are currently going through divorce.

You also have a three year old daughter named Alice.

I ask for something stronger this time, but I'll be sticking to a glass of scotch before deciding on starting on the vodka.

"Isn't she beautiful?" You ask me proudly, shoving a tiny picture of you and a child that you took from your wallet in front of my nose.

"She is," I agree, noticing how happy you look in the picture, holding a very blond and adorable blue-eyed chibi girl in your arms. "She looks a lot like you."

"I know!" You say, glancing adoringly at the picture one more time before putting it away. "She's my little princess. I'm trying to win over her custody since I make more money than Jessica does."

Oh, so Jessica is the mother's name, I assume.

"Why are you getting a divorce, anyway?" I inquire, holding my glass and swirling it around slowly. "You were married for five years; it's hardly a long time."

You glance at me from the corner of your eye and sigh.

"She already had a son," You explain, frowning. "He's already twelve. He didn't really like me from the start and Alice's birth didn't make things any easier. No matter what I did, the kid was always insufferable and…well, I guess I can't blame her for having prioritized her son's interests."

"Did you and she get along well?" I ask, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"Yeah, we did," You nod, shrugging. "She is really smart, and good-looking, and successful and we worked fine. I just…couldn't compete with the kid, I guess."

"Well, her son surely wasn't looking out for her best interest, and I'm sure she'll realize it in a few years." I mutter, offering a small smile. You smile back, for a moment looking straight into my eyes but immediately dropping them to your hands.

"It's not like it matters anymore, Sasuke," You whisper. "I just want my daughter back. She's mine and I don't want her living with some stupid kid that hates her and will make her life a living hell."

"It'll be fine." I assure. I don't know what makes me so sure, but I know you, I know how fiercely you fight for what you want, with that undying determination of yours. You'll get what you want because that is the only acceptable outcome for anything with you.

I see you swallowing hard, eyes trained now on some bottle from the glassy shelves in front of us behind the counter.

"If you say it like that, I feel like it'll happen for sure." You mumble, almost shyly.

My heart skips a beat or two at that but I keep my cool. I prefer not to dwell on the tiny smile you try to conceal by pressing your chin to your chest.

"So," You say, turning completely to me on the stool and resting your cheek in your fist. "I talk too much right? It's probably stress or something. How about you? What have you been up to?"

I frown a little because your eyes shine too brightly, your knee touches my leg and you are a little flushed. Now you are staring at my mouth openly.

Why do you do that? I don't know if I should feel uncomfortable or annoyed. I don't know why it is so hard for you to just look into my eyes.

"Not much," I sigh, wetting my lips and noticing your flinch. "After we broke up, my father decided that he didn't want to disown me after all and gave my share of his company to me. At the time I told him to fuck off because I was upset and resentful towards the world in general, but a few months later I reconsidered and accepted it."

You nod a little and wet your lips as well.

"You always wanted to run the family business," You say, seriously. "I know it was my fault you didn't."

"It wasn't your fault; my father just didn't respect my choices," I mutter, slowly. "Anyway, things are alright now and my parents have gone back to Japan and so has Itachi. I'm running the company here and he's running the one there."

"I figured you'd be all set for life by now, with brains like yours," You say, smiling genuinely. "You look like a million bucks, with these fancy clothes of yours. I'm a little envious, and I've been doing fairly well myself."

"Yeah, it's alright, I guess."

"Are you married?"

The question comes a little brusquely, unthinkingly, and you clamp your mouth shut almost immediately even though there is no malice in your words.

One would think that at almost 36 you'd already be able to think before speaking, but I guess some things never change.

Something in the air cracks. It's invisible, soundless, but it resounds like a thousand storms after these two hours we've been chit-chatting uselessly.

I guess we never change towards each other, no matter how much time passes. I am still pulled towards you, I'm sure you know it as well as I do, and I'm sure you feel the same pull, otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here, drinking and pretending to be civilized and you wouldn't feel that being this close to me is normal. You want to be close and yet avoid looking at me. You're scared. No, you're terrified.

You're terrified because we both feel it. It's here, palpable, like it was back then.

It hasn't changed at all.

My smirk isn't but a shield to protect me from my real emotions. It's actually sad that something that should feel reassuring is anything but.

I'm all messed up.

"Here's what we'll do," I say, turning to you on my stool, causing both our knees to touch now. You don't move away. When I lean forward, you swallow hard. "I'll tell you all about my love life if you look at me."

"What do you mean?" You ask, and your voice becomes weak. "I am looking at you."

"I wasn't aware that I had eyes on my chin, Dobe."

I avoid mentioning my mouth, but you still blush deeply, like a kid that has been caught doing something wrong.

"Sorry." You mumble, straightening up on the stool and scratching your nose nervously, luminous eyes turned downwards to your lap. You let out a long, soft sigh and rub your eyes with both hands. Your posture is embarrassing and I shift a little, biting my bottom lip.

You then lift your head and look straight at me, only to confirm my thoughts. You gesture towards me without speaking and frown and there is this oddly familiar intensity in your eyes that wasn't there before that makes my breath hitch.

My throat runs dry and my heart hammers in my ears painfully. You eye me with a small pout, pleadingly, but I'm not sure what you're pleading for. I don't want to know. Or do I?

I don't really know any more.

I understand you so well...

I don't care about the life you lead without me, I just care that you're alright. I don't care about anything else but the fact that I wasn't imagining things because that twinge of something is still between us, bonding us and that's…

That's just the best worst feeling in the world and I'm happy, but suddenly wish you kept your huge blue eyes locked away somewhere else because when they look at me I feel trapped and powerless, and I don't want to remember anything at all.

"Sorry." You repeat, blinking rapidly. There is a confused look to you, as if you just realized your barriers have gone down, and yet, you gaze at me with such an open longing I find it hard to learn how to breathe again.

"I thought we were done with the apologies." I say, gently, not trusting myself to move or to raise my voice above this whisper that comes out.

"We are," You say, huffing a little and shaking your head from side to side. "It's all over my face, right? I know it is."

"What is?" I ask, still softly, innocently, my tone a little too naïve.

You open your mouth and then close it again. In front of us, the bartender is listening while drying off a few glasses.

"Nothing," You end up answering, clearing your throat. "It's just…I feel a little embarrassed looking at you, but I know it's weird and it's not like I don't want to look into your eyes – you know you have amazing eyes - it's just..."

"It's fine," I interrupt, forcing a smile. "It's embarrassing for me, too, so we're even in being absolutely ridiculous." The laugh you let out is very genuine and my smile becomes it as well. "Can I offer you another cigarette this time, or do you prefer to steal it without my consent again?"

We could talk about what just happened between us, but it's all written in both our faces and the way we look at each other proves it. You know you can't hide from me and neither can I hide from you.

Like being naked, we are completely exposed to each other because it's unavoidable – always was because fate has always been tricky like that. We both know we can't run away from something that is as inevitable as closing your eyes when you sneeze.

We can't run from it, but we can ignore it.

"Old habits die hard, as they say," You reply, still laughing that bright, childish laugh of yours. "I guess I'm feeling a little nostalgic. I'm such an idiot. What were we talking about, anyway?"

"You were asking me if I'm married."

"Ah, yeah."

I offer you a cigarette, as promised, and take one for me as well. You decide it's a good idea to order two strawberry vodkas and I don't complain even though I prefer real vodka – I'll need it if I want to leave this place with my sanity in check.

I'm glad you seem more relaxed now, though, no longer attacking me with that nervous rampage of words from before.

"I'm not married, no," I tell you, matter-of-factly, absently unbuttoning the first two buttons of the collar of my black shirt. "After you, I got to confirm that the opposite sex isn't exactly my thing and the whole marriage and family shit is not for me."

"A gay workaholic you are, then," You joke, poking my knee playfully with the two fingers that hold your cigarette. "Do you have a boyfriend, then? I'm sure you have one, it's not possible for a good-looking, successful guy like you to be completely single."

I smirk at that, sure that you are flirting with me without even noticing it. You are watching me close now, curiously, I know.

"Not a boyfriend, more like a…" I bring the cigarette to my lips and inhale the smoke. "…consistent one night stand, if that even exists."

"Oh…" You say, sounding both surprised and disappointed, though I'm not sure at what. "Don't you want to settle down? I mean, have someone beside you to grow old with?"

"No," I say securely, expelling the smoke all over your face and making you grimace, free hand waving the smoke away. "Don't give me that look."

"It's retarded to not want something like that!" You exclaim, like the proud, obnoxious teenager you used to be, your nose up in the air. "Everyone wants to have someone that is theirs, someone that will be there to the very end."

"I once thought that someone already existed," I say it with simplicity because I don't want it to mean anything since I'm just stating a fact, but you blush once more and throw a kind of a bitter look at me. "I don't love easily, Naruto, I'm not like you and neither am I a person that is easy to love."

"That's not true at all," You mumble, with little conviction.

"It is true," I press on. "Besides, there is no 'through the end'. People come and go and, still, we all die alone because no-one will go down that path with us when we do. I don't need someone to hold my hand while I'm dying, nor does it scare me that I might die alone in my apartment. I'll be dead, it won't matter to me if my body is left rotting."

"It's just like you to say something horrible like that." You groan, rolling your eyes and smashing the cigarette on the ashtray in front of us. "I just think you should have someone that is…there, to protect you and support you, you know? I mean, don't you get lonely?"

I chuckle. Un-fucking-believable.

"You're going through a divorce and you still cling to that sentimental bullshit?"

"Well, I certainly don't intend on ending my days alone," You say, firmly. "I believe in true love and happy endings. I have to, I want Alice to know that the world is a beautiful place to live in and that she can have faith in whatever she wants."

I tilt my head to the side, feeling a little condescending.

The things you believed in and trusted in so firmly were always the things I despised and yet, admired you for.

"Now it's you who is giving me the look," You grumble, pointing at me with an accusing finger. "Just answer my question, bastard."

I can't help making an annoyed clack with my tongue.

"I do get lonely," I answer, slowly, narrowing my eyes. "But not because I don't have someone to call 'lover'. I am surrounded by people every day; I don't exactly crave for company, most of the times I just want to have a nice dinner and some quiet time with my bed and my TV." I sigh and you look hurt. "I don't want any more of that love bullshit. I've had my share of dreams, longings, hopes and beliefs. I once saw the world in a very different color, but once was enough for me. I don't want to go through it ever again with someone else if I can help it."

A very constricted silence follows my words as you thoughtfully sip your vodka and I put out my own cigarette.

"I knew you'd be like that," You whisper, after a while, setting down the glass. "I just wanted to be wrong for once. I wanted to make sure you were well taken care of."

"I'm not like you." I say, and it is true. "And I don't need to be taken care of."

You have a big heart and you're always ready to give and take from everyone in the whole world.

But my whole world was you. I gave it all to you and still couldn't get it back.

I knew that from the moment I saw your retreating back, seven years ago, and I know that now, as well.

You will love millions before I can even start opening my heart to someone else.

"I'm fine." I assure you, with confidence.

"I know," You acknowledge, huffing. "I know that, and yet…I don't know maybe I'm being hypocritical here because…after you I dated a few people and when neither of them worked, I tried with Jess and when that failed I…I'm not really in the mood for relationships either, you know? I'm fed up. But I want to believe that my soul mate is out there, somewhere. But it's just…tiring and so fucking disappointing because every fucking time something goes wrong."

It hurts that you would believe something like that, Naruto. We belonged to each other back then, and we were perfect in every way in spite of everything. There was something that was ours, something unique that I never felt for anyone before. I don't believe in 'soul mates', but with you I just might make an expception.

I just don't know why we kept inflicting pain to each other, over and over again. I still don't understand it.

Why I hated you and had the need to be as mean to you as much as I loved you and wanted to make you happy.

I wish I knew how to fix it when I had the chance. I wish someone out there knew how much we needed each other, how much we were aching to be together and not managing to do so.

"That's just you being stupid and idealistic," I mutter. The words are hard to pronounce, but I somehow succeed in keeping them steady. "You can't expect to find that person from one day to another. That pessimistic attitude is crap and it doesn't suit you."

That wide smile is retarded. You look completely retarded, staring at me like I said the most wonderful thing in the whole world.

I want to tell you to eat shit and wipe that smile off your face. I'm not happy I said something sappy like that.

Still, my heart…my stomach…

Everything becomes a mess just from that smile.

God, I used to love seeing you smile that honestly. I still do. It's like the world becomes warmer and the colors are brighter.

When you smile like that, nothing seems to matter.

"Is it weird that I missed you?" You ask, suddenly, still grinning like a fool. "I mean, geez…I'm not even sure if I should say this, but I'm really happy we're here, doing this. I feel better than I have in months. It's not weird, is it? You're my best friend after all, it's my right to miss you."

Yes, it is your right to miss me and delude yourself with such indulgences. I don't mind. It stings, but it's alright.

I'm the best friend who hasn't been a part of your life for so long it's amazing you still call me that. But I'm happy, too, because you're masking your feelings with simpler words. It's fine because I know I don't have a place beside you anymore, so why make this more intimate than it is? It's no use.

You have a daughter and I have a 'consistent one night stand'. We belong in worlds that are very different, and now more than ever.

Useless.

Love is an illusion, a stupid disease like a fucking parasite that leaves an ugly scar that you're forced to look at every day.

I hate it. I hate you, for making me feel like this.

For letting me know you still want me like I want you.

Still, I smile and nod understandably.

"No, Naruto, it's not weird at all," I say, carefuly. "It's only natural after all those years."

I don't say it, but I know you know I'm telling you I missed you, too.

For a moment there, it looks like your eyes water but your grin never falters.

You are so brave, and I'm so lucky that I'm well trained. We can do this all night long, I think, and survive to live another day.

I just want it to be over. I thought I couldn't hurt anymore, but I do. Happiness is also very painful, I think.

Should I be happy that I'm still loved?

I want to stay with you forever in this quiet bar, and pretend I don't want to touch you or talk to you and tell you all the things I need to tell you.

Yet, I want to leave.

But I stay, smile all the more openly and order yet another drink to the both of us. We're getting drunk tonight, like old times, and I don't care how we'll get home – it'll be easy for me to call someone to drive either of us to our separate places, and separate lives.

At least, for a while, I can keep you with me.

000

After God knows how many drinks and many, pointless conversations, I end up in the backseat of your expensive car and I don't know how I got here. My head is all fuzzy, my back hurts like a bitch and yet I don't have the power to think at all. I don't let myself do it and blame the alcohol for it.

There is your mouth latched on my neck, sucking, licking, kissing and your hands all over me. Your body rests between my thighs and you're all over me, heavy and hot and panting and pulsing, so alive it's unbelievable.

I inhale you scent, over and over again and relish on how familiar it still is, how much I've missed it, how much I craved it.

You skin is different than I remember – rougher – and you're wider and sharper here and there, but I don't care. I can't breathe, my heart is beating so loudly and so fast and I don't care if this is healthy or natural at all. Hell, I don't care if I die right here, right now, as long as I'm in your arms.

I'd die a happy man.

I know I won't be happy in a few minutes or tomorrow, or even a week from today but I don't care. All I care about is you and the perfect way our bodies fit together.

It's shocking that our chemistry is still too strong, too violent, and too immediate. It's like when we were teenagers and couldn't keep our dicks to ourselves after a make-out session.

Just for now, I want to listen to the sound of your pleas, say whatever I want, show you – let you know how I feel.

I don't say anything special, or maybe I do, I don't know. But I do hear your raspy voice uttering urgent nothings in my ear – I take in every word as if it's the last one.

I almost cry while listening to them. I don't because I'm too moved.

Naruto, why does this have to happen to us? Why is it happening when there is no purpose to this other than quelling our own needs?

I know this is just us being reckless in finding a way to survive a little longer in this new life where we don't belong with each other.

Naruto, can I keep you?

Why are we this cruel to each other?

Lies, they just keep coming. Fate just throws lies at us.

False hopes.

Still, just illusions.

But how I feel is no illusion – I'll feel this way forever, even if you'll never hear it from me.

I want to get high on you so I kiss you with my mouth open and breathe in and out quickly.

I don't want it to end but it will, too soon.

I don't want to forget this. I don't want to pretend to have forgotten all about you, ever again.

But I must.

I love you so much I hate you.

I know you'll leave and we'll probably never see each other again but I'll hold on to the hope that, seven years from now, we can meet again.

Maybe then I'll punch you before letting you fuck me because you deserve it for doing this to me. Even if we don't fuck I'll punch you all the same just because I'm too fond of you right now to do it.

I don't care at all if we pretend again. We just might be forgiven someday for our sins. Maybe when we are old and mature enough you realize you belong with me and that no-one in this big world you love will ever love you as much as I do.

No matter what you believe, you were the only thing I ever really wanted in my mechanical life and the only thing I will ever dream about having again.

Right now, I know this is all I can ask for, all I can have. I know I will lose you once more, but it's alright, I can take it.

As long as you are alive in this earth, no matter how far, I'll endure everything, as many times as I have to.


End file.
